


heroes aren't perfect darling, i don't expect you to be

by sarcieles (orphan_account)



Series: The Spider and the Flame [2]
Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Fantastic Four (2015)
Genre: Angst, But a lot of fluff too, Dancing, Fluff, Lotsa Angst Folks, M/M, The simple kind you can do in a pie tin, like you're holding a dead floppy person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 19:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4717523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sarcieles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter locks himself in his room after saving the city, but landing one little boy in a coma that he could've prevented.</p><p>(It's my second time writing Spidey-torch, don't judge XP)</p>
            </blockquote>





	heroes aren't perfect darling, i don't expect you to be

**Author's Note:**

> For my friend, who can't (or won't) write this herself.

Peter had had people get injured, even die, in his attempts to save the city. But none even compared to half of what he'd done today. During an electrical shock from the guy that deemed himself "The Electricity Bill" (because his name was William and could control and hack electrical circuits but was nowhere near as dangerous as Electro) Peter had shot some water at his suit with a fireman's house. It was all a strange sense of déjà vu, the hose, and it made it painful because of Gwen. That must've been where the distraction had come from because he completely didn't see "The Electricity Bill" swing a police car door at him. Peter ducked instead of catching it with his webs, and it landed on top of a little boy. He was no older than seven.

 

Time stopped. The villain stopped. Everything _stopped._ Then, then the most anguished cry he had ever heard in his life. "My son!" a man wailed. "My son, somebody help him!" Peter was torn. Either he got the door off the little boy or stop "The Electricity Bill". And Peter knew which one he had to do, because the said man was approaching him at ten miles an hour. Peter let the pedestrians get the car off of him by themselves.

 

"You bastard," the father had whispered when he stayed behind to ask how he was doing. "You _bastard."_

 

Now Peter was in his room, watching the news and listening to music at the same time. The little boy was Aiden Pohanka, seven years old, and was in a coma. As soon as the word "coma" came from the newswoman's mouth he shut the TV off. That was because he was sure the words "Spider-Man" and, "failed to protect" were next. Peter buried his head in his pillow. The lights were off, now his music was off, and only moonlight filtered in through the curtains. Peter was asleep even with his frenzied brain telling him how badly he'd screwed up.

 

 

He woke up to kisses on his neck. "Johnny," he breathed. The other man swooped down and kissed his lips in a chaste but sincere gesture. Peter sighed into it. "Johnny, I..."

 

"Shh..." Johnny growled onto his forehead. "Don't. I know." Peter let out a choked breath and buried himself further into his blankets and pillows. With a sudden show of strength, Johnny swept him up in his arms and set him down on the floor. His pajama bottoms touched the floor. They were a size too big, held together at the back with a safety pin.

 

"Peter, you are not going to beat yourself up." said Johnny in a low voice that Peter wanted to envelop himself inside and stay in forever.

 

"Have you been the reason a kid that's in first grade is in a coma?" Peter retorted softly. If he was on the edge of crying, he swore to God that this period of his life couldn't get any worse. Johnny had seen him cry, and it broke him every time that he did. Because Peter was supposed to be _Spider-Man_ for fuck's sake.

 

"I've been part of the reason my sister can now turn herself invisible, my colleague super-stretchy, another colleague stuck in another planet that made him resentful of us, and the first colleague's friend a rock." Johnny shrugged. "And part of the reason my dad died."

 

"It's not the same," Peter said.

 

"Okay, but I know half of what's going on, and Peter..." Johnny whispered into his ear, brushing the hair gingerly away from it, "I want to be here for you."

 

"You are."

 

"Not just now, but... through this entire thing." Johnny said. Peter nodded, sinking into Johnny's defined arms. "Know that, okay?"

 

"Okay." Peter said hoarsely. Another shaky breath resonated through Johnny. "I'm scared, Johnny."

 

"I know. I know. I know." Johnny repeated over and over like it was his own personal mantra. Peter found himself being swayed by his arms. "I'm sorry."

 

"Don't be sorry, you have nothing to do with this-" Peter managed before gasping out another sob. Johnny kissed the top of his head, still swaying gently like he was dancing. Maybe they were dancing. Peter knew nothing about it, so it was possible they were.

 

"I'm sorry because you do," Johnny replied soundly. Peter felt a tear slip down his cheek and onto Johnny's chest. "Not all heroes can be perfect, Peter. And yes, you screwed up today. And yes, you're going to do it again, and again, and again. But that little boy isn't dead. Others would be if you hadn't stayed focused afterwards.

 

"I don't want you to think you're a bad person for not immediately helping the boy. You aren't, Peter, everyone knows you aren't."

 

"His father called me a bastard. Twice." Peter said. Johnny's nose wrinkled protectively.

 

"That's because he's blinded by his own grief. He'll see that you made a mistake, but if you had made another one and saved his son immediately after it happened, he, his son, and countless others would be dead. Even... even you." Johnny whispered the last part quietly.

 

Peter sighed deeply, inhaling the scent of Johnny, pressing his ear against his ribcage to hear his heartbeat.

 

"Stay with me? Just for tonight?" he asked while he still swayed.

 

"Of course." Johnny said. He lifted Peter's head up with two fingers and brought his lips to his. Peter unwrapped his arms from Johnny's small waist to snake them around his neck. Johnny, on the other hand, just made a contented noise and kept rocking back and forth, side to side, like a boat.

 

 _Like dancing,_ Peter thought.


End file.
